The Best You Can Be
by Zil
Summary: [Ult. XMen] Bobby and Rogue get some special attention while being held by Weapon X. Will either of them be the same when 'training' is done?
1. Chapter 1

The Best You Can Be

**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the background ideas. I just write stories for my own entertainment (and hopefully yours).**

**Summary: **Iceman gets a new room and a fun new roommate. Too bad he's still a captive in the Weapon X program and the roomie is Rogue.

**Continuity:** Let's see…Ultimate X-Men set waaayyy back during the weapon X ish's. Starts before Logan comes to the rescue and goes it's own way from there.

"Don't tell me" she said sitting up slightly as Bobby stumbled in. The force field sprang up behind him. "You're Luke Skywalker and you're here to rescue me."

Bobby blinked. The guards headed back down the hall. "Uh, sorry, no. I was actually looking for the sixth circle of Hell. You know, the one below where government goons kidnap you and force you to do their dirty work."

Rogue raised an eyebrow.

Bobby flushed slightly. "Where you're forcibly removed from your friends and stuck in a cell with the enemy." It had sounded funnier in his head. "Um. So, I'm your new roomie I guess."

"Looks like. You can have top bunk." She lay back down and commenced ignoring him.

He shuffled his feet for a moment, then picked up the blanket they'd given him and his single change of clothes: jeans and a tee shirt, a reward for an excellent completion of assignment. He unhooked the cot chained to the wall and tossed his stuff on it. Rogue acted like he didn't exist. He pulled himself up, careful not to use her bunk for leverage. He tried to settle on the flat surface. It would be lights out soon. Or at least he thought it would be. The walk down here had been a dizzying array of streamlined hallways and two brief elevator rides. He had no idea where he was. It could be a whole different building than the one the other X-Men were in. The thought made his brain hurt.

The cell was the same, except across from it was a featureless wall, no other cell with despondent captive mutants. In fact, he hadn't seen any other cells at all. Not on either side, not since the first elevator trip. He couldn't tell if he'd moved up or down. He closed his eyes and tried to recall exactly what he'd seen before they'd shoved him in the cell. Walls, tiled, like where he'd been before, except this was the only one. There had been no slight glow from force fields as far as he could see down the corridor, and he hadn't passed any either. Why would they build a hall with only one cell? Was it still under construction? No, there'd been other doors, regular doors of featureless metal. He squinched up his eyes trying to picture it. Two. Maybe three. Heck, probably more. He sighed and opened his eyes.

The lights were still on. The only noise was the slight hum of the electric wall. He missed his friends and their sounds. He kicked out his legs, trying to make the blanket crinkle or sigh or something to prove he wasn't suddenly deaf. He leaned over the edge of the bunk, trying to think of a question that wouldn't betray the small ball of fear in his stomach. Rogue was pale. She always looked pale, but now she really looked sick. He could see beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Hey, uh, you okay?"

Her eyes snapped open, darting about before settling on him. "What?"

Bobby leaned back a bit. "You look…"

"I'm fine." She pulled her blanket up until it almost covered her face.

She looked young. She was young, Bobby reminded himself. She was his age as near as the Professor's files on the Brotherhood were concerned. He'd read them 'cause Scott told him to, but he actually remembered a bit of hers. He was the youngest X-Man and it was surprising to find someone his age level, even if she was a bad guy. They were both pretty powerful, he figured. He'd almost taken out Wraith and his squad single handed. They'd had to get a girl his own age to take him out. He grimaced slightly remembering.

"Well get your mug back up on your own bed and quit gawkin' if you've got nothing better to do than make faces."

"I was just thinking about back at the mansion, what you did."

She shrugged slightly, as best she could curled on her side.

"It was mean, you know."

She gave him a withering look. "Look at where you are, Bobby Drake. If you haven't figured out why I did it, you've not got the good sense God gave a pig."

"I'm here thanks to you."

"You're here because they wanted you."

"And because of you."

"Whatever." She closed her eyes but the angry look stayed on her face.

He rolled onto his back. She was mad at him? He was the one wronged. He thought about motives. He saw a helicopter bursting into flames as it hit the ground, it's propeller frozen solid. He covered his face with his hands. He could be pretty mean too. "Hey." He dangled over the side again.

One green eye opened.

"Sorry." He wondered what exactly he was apologizing for. "Like, it was nothing personal, right?"

She just looked at him.

His eyes widened. His head was getting heavy from hanging there. "Well, uh, you're not going to… You won't…"

She pulled the blanket down from around her neck. Bobby tensed to pull back fast.

"Don't mess yourself." She ran her fingers along a thin metal collar he hadn't noticed before. "They got me neutralized so I don't wig out again. I couldn't do anything even if I wanted to."

"Oh. That's good."

"Yeah, it's peachy."

"No, I mean that…Well, that was one of the coolest things I've ever seen, but it must have been way freaky." He adjusted himself so he could look over the edge without blood pounding in his ears. "Seriously, did you see the look on the soldiers faces when you just took off like a rocket? Right through the ceiling!"

"Straight on up through the roof." She had a little smile. "Was my downfall, if only I'd turned or something'."

"Yeah. Then they detonated your implant." His expression grew sober. "I didn't watch you come down. I didn't want to see if your head had been exploded like a melon or something. But then Peter said you were okay. You just smacked back down, didn't even have a scratch."

"Except for being unconscious…'

"You know it took them three days to get the hole completely patched up? All week everyone was on eggshells."

"Week? Is that how long it's been?" She sat up, suddenly interested. Bobby leaned back reflexively.

"Uh, yeah. Nearly eight days now."

"Oh. You kinda lose track of time down here."

Bobby smoothed out the edge of his blanket and didn't look at her. "What is here? I mean, what happens here?" The little ball of fear was starting to roll back and forth.

"You find out you let me know, okay?" Rogue lay on her back. She caught sight of his expression. "No, honest. I've been really in and out of it. I can't hardly keep track of who I am, let alone what day it is or what's going on."

"But…" Bobby curled his hands into the blanket, the word stuck in his throat. "Essex?"

Fear flashed through Rogue's eyes. "Yes." She whispered back.


	2. Chapter 2

A day before:

He was there when they brought Bobby in. He stood next to Dr. Cornelius looking at some equipment or maybe just chatting the way two doctors can, as Bobby was half-carried, half-dragged in by a pair of guards. He was fairly heavy in his ice form.

The doctors turned, Cornelius' eyes widening. "Get him up on a table!" His voice was excited and slightly fearful.

Bobby was dumped unceremoniously on a dull metal table. There was a subdued sort of clang and a gasp from one of the uniformed men, glad to be free of their burden. They stood uncertainly, knowing they shouldn't leave, but not sure if they should stay. Dr. Cornelius impatiently brushed them aside, trying to get a look at his patient. Bobby curled into a ball and did his best not to whimper. Cornelius prodded him tentatively and turned to get some gloves when his fingers froze. "Relax!" he commanded

Bobby took a shaky breath and tried to unclench himself.

"Amazing," Cornelius breathed. He picked up Bobby's leg with careful hands, grasping it just above where it ended in a splintery icicle, where his right foot used to be. "Does it hurt?"

Bobby looked at the ceiling and wondered that himself. "No, " he said. "Actually it doesn't feel like anything."

"Lack of feeling, numbness, or like it's missing?"

"I dunno," Bobby replied. "Just like…nothing. I don't feel anything."

"Anything where? Your leg, below the waist or nothing anywhere?"

"Um, below my knee I guess." Because there's nothing left to feel there, he thought. A slightly hysterical giggle escaped him.

Cornelius prodded the shattered leg; the other man joined him in the examination. "No feeling at all?"

Bobby shook his head quickly and tried to keep from freaking out completely. It worried him that he couldn't feel anything He almost wished it would hurt.

"This is Iceman, obviously." The other doctor stated, inclining his head. "He can completely transform himself into ice? I thought it was just a covering."

Cornelius nodded. "That's what we thought too. It seems he can do more. Maybe some sort of defense mechanism. When did you become all ice?"

Bobby glanced down the table at the men. Yes, they were talking to him. He expected the sight of his missing foot to make him dizzy or nauseous or something, but there was no feeling and no physical reaction. "I don't know." He laid back down "I didn't think about it. It just sort of happened I guess, when I got hit. Nothing before that was any different from any other time."

"Can you change back?"

Bobby closed his eyes and fought the urge to curl up again at Cornelius' words. "Maybe. But I'd be missing a good chunk of my leg." The hysterical edge was back in his voice.

Cornelius put his leg back down and pondered this, circling the exam table. "True. Well, maybe we can get you an artificial leg. You could stay in ice form. Then we'd lose you as an undercover op. It'll take some extensive surgery and therapy to get you up to speed in human form, he muttered excitedly while pacing. The other doctor cleared his throat. Bobby, who'd felt hope dying and panic rising with each word Cornelius said focused on him for the first time. He was tall, but not huge. Pale, with dark hair and intense dark eyes; same lab coat and nondescript pants as Dr. Cornelius. "If I may make a suggestion?" Again Cornelius nodded. "Perhaps the boy can make a foot. Out of ice."

Cornelius' eyes gleamed. "Yes, that would work while he's in ice form."

"No." The other man said. "I mean he can make an ice-foot and then change back and see what happens. Maybe it will stay ice while the rest of him is flesh and there will be no need of surgeries." He reached out and skated his fingers over the stump of Bobby's shin. His expression was unchanged even as his fingers whitened with cold and raised vapor from the contact without the benefit of the heavy gloves Cornelius and the guards wore.

Cornelius just stared at him for a moment. "I guess…Yes," he jerked his head in Bobby's direction, "try that."

Bobby wanted his mother very badly.

"It might be wise to call a nurse in case it doesn't work." The other doctor suggested mildly.

"Of course." Cornelius flushed slightly, going for an intercom box on the wall.

"It would seem to me that this is precisely the sort of testing one would have done when the boy arrived." His voice was still unassuming, but the look on his face was cold, a cross between pity and disgust.

"Well we obviously weren't fully aware of his abilities." His cheeks burned crimson and the entrance of three silent nurses rescued him. He quickly apprised them of the situation. "Go to it" he said to Bobby.

Bobby took some shallow breaths and leaned up on his elbows. He squinted at his poor mangled leg, and made a new one out of ice. It didn't look right. He sighed and tried again. Still…wrong. His arms started to shake. He spared a glance at the others. Cornelius was starting to look exasperated. The second doctor had his arms crossed, but was watching with interest.

He stepped closer to Bobby. "Don't try so hard. You said it feels like nothing; so try to make it feel like something. Flex you toes."

Bobby closed his eyes and imagined his foot. He tried wriggling his toes, and they did. He opened his eyes in surprise. There, that looked right. Felt right too.

Dr. Cornelius looked supremely satisfied. "Excellent, Dr. Essex. Marvelous."

Essex nodded almost to himself. "Now, change back."

Bobby tried. Power rippled through him but nothing happened. "Um," he said, looking at the dark haired doctor. He was afraid to change back, he was afraid of what his leg would do, or not do, but when he looked at Dr. Essex a new fear swallowed his fear of transforming. He was getting used to being an experiment for the doctors here, a pawn for the people in charge, but none of them had ever looked at him with the base malevolence that he was seeing in Dr. Essex's gaze. He did not want this man's attention, but now that he had it, it would be worse, far worse, to displease him.

Essex lowered his head, eyebrows rising and eyes seeming to faintly glow. "Try again."

Bobby did. And this time it worked, his leg was whole, and like the rest of him made of muscle, bone and skin.

"I'll take him too." Essex pursed his lips thoughtfully before turning on his heel and striding from the room.

Cornelius frowned slightly, but did not argue.

Bobby lay back, his breath still coming his short gasps, and sincerly tried to convince himself that the doctor just meant something plesant and innocent, like 'out for ice cream'. Now his leg was starting to ache, and he missed his friends with a pain that felt like he had a hole in his chest.


End file.
